


Mother's Day

by truth_renowned



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Baby Sousa, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6789964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_renowned/pseuds/truth_renowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy celebrates her first Mother's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

The pregnancy was difficult, bed rest for the final few weeks, but it was all worth it when I heard little seven-pound, eight-ounce Michael Daniel Sousa’s first cry in the world. We cried together, all three of us.

That was just two weeks ago. It’s been a learning experience for both Daniel and I. Neither one of us knew what to expect, despite well-meaning friends giving us books to read and advice to follow. Nothing prepared us for being parents. Two top-notch agents, capable of taking down a room full of HYDRA operatives, took three tries to get a diaper on a squirming infant. I won't even discuss the first time I nursed him.

There is no doubt that Michael is his father’s son. He was born with a full head of thick black hair. He also has Daniel’s sense of humor. Almost every time one of us changes him, he turns on that little fountain of his and lets loose. I swear my child can pee on demand. And every time, he giggles. Already he is showing signs of stubbornness as well. I guess he came by that honest, considering both his parents carry that gene in spades.

To say that running S.H.I.E.L.D. from my bed has been difficult is an understatement. Luckily, I have a very capable right-hand man, Assistant Director Sousa. He runs the place with an iron fist, or, as he jokes, an iron leg. But the minute he walks into our house, he becomes a different man. When he holds Michael in his arms, both of them reflect the wonder that is each other. All Daniel has to do is smile at his son and they both start giggling. Yes, Daniel giggles. I never thought I would see it.

The bed rest was infuriating for me, not only because I cannot sit still, and not only because I am trying to run a new agency, but also because Daniel and I have been unable to be intimate. Considering we had what would be called a very healthy sex life, not being able to make love to him for four weeks -- technically, four weeks and two days, but who is counting -- has been an adjustment for both of us. Between nursing every few hours and the pain from childbirth, I have had neither the time nor the desire. That’s not true. I definitely had the desire, but I knew it wouldn’t be enjoyable for either of us. Not to mention what my figure has become.

I’ve never been self-conscious about my body, especially around Daniel, but it has changed so much in the past nine and a half months. Hips are larger, stomach is bulging. I’ve heard advice from people I know, and some I don’t know, telling me how sex changes after a baby.

‘You won’t feel like it.’

‘You won’t have time.’

‘Once you pop one out, your body gives up on you and so will your hubby.’

That last one was offered by the wife of one of my agents. I’ll try not to take it out on him once I return to work.

I place the baby in the crib, his second meal of the morning complete, and he squirms and scrunches his face. I’m learning what his body language and facial expressions mean. His belly is full and so is his diaper. I pick him up and put him on the changing table.

“I’ll do it,” Daniel says, making me jump. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He walks up and slips his arm around me. “Why don’t you go back to bed? It’s Mother’s Day. You’re supposed to take it easy.”

I knew it was Sunday but didn’t realize it was _that_ Sunday. My first Mother’s Day. I believe I will take his advice.

“OK, little man, whatcha got for me,” I hear him say as I go back to our room and climb into bed. It feels good to just lay here and not think about work, or anything, really. Relaxation always has been hard for me but exhaustion tends to make it easier.

“Peg?”

He’s sitting next to me on the bed. I must have dozed off.

“Hi,” I say, taking his hand in mine.

“Are you hungry? I could make you something. Just let me know what you want.”

I kiss his hand, letting my tongue sneak out and taste his skin. “You. I want you.”

His eyes widen, pupils dilating. “Are you sure you’re ready?

“I am more than ready. And Michael should sleep for a few hours.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. His shirt goes, as do the pants, underwear and leg. I pull off my nightgown and panties, and throw them on the floor. I climb under the sheet.

He looks at me. “Are you cold?”

“No,” I say shyly. “After the baby, my body…”

“Your body is amazing, Peggy.”

“I appreciate you lying to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he says, pulling back the sheet. He leans over me and kisses me with the passion we’ve always had. His hand brushes past my neck, down my arm, then to my breast.

“These were incredible before but now… now they are magnificent.”

“They aren’t for you,” I tease. “They’re for your son.”

“Why should he have all the fun?”

He kisses one breast, then the other, so gently, knowing they are tender from nursing. His lips are burning on my skin.

Those lips kiss their way down to my stomach, probably my most self-conscious part. I craved everything in sight, and after being forced to lie around for two weeks, I gained more weight than I should have.

Light nips on my skin make me gasp.

“And this,” he says, hands running along my hips, “this held my child, nurtured him, for nine long months.”

He moves down the bed, hands running along my thighs, spreading them. He situates himself between my legs and kisses the inside of one thigh. A moan escapes my lips before I register it was there.

“And this,” he says, brushing a finger over the most sensitive part of me, “this gave my son life.” And he kisses me where he has never kissed me before.

“Daniel!”

I should be shocked but it feels so good. An exquisite heat starts in my brain, travels down my body and pools right where he kisses me again.

“God, Daniel,” I manage to get out, though it is a challenge. “Get. Up. Here.”

I feel his mouth smile against me. He plants one more kiss, then moves up my body. I grab his face and kiss him, tasting myself on his lips, causing more fire to ignite in my veins.

He breaks the kiss, runs a hand along my cheek. “Your body is amazing. _You_ are amazing. I didn't think it was possible for me to love you more, to find you more attractive, than I already did. But since you gave birth to my son, I do love you more, and I do find you more beautiful, more sexy than before.”

Dear God, I love this man.

“On your back, mister,” I growl.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a chuff of laughter.

He barely lies down on the bed before I scramble on top of him. I am ready for him, I think, I hope. Come on, body, don't fail me now. Lining myself up, with his direction, I lower myself onto him. It's slow going, very slow. Muscles that were overworked with pushing out a baby have had little time to heal.

“You OK?”

“I will be,” I say with a grimace.

“Don't overdo it.”

I smile. “You're not getting out of this that easily.”

His hands run along my hips. “I'm not going anywhere.

Finally, my legs shaking from the effort, he is fully filling me. We both let out sighs. I don't move. Neither does he. He's letting me direct this.

I lift myself, then slowly, slowly come down, then up again. My body expands more with each pass until finally, we can set a pace.

“God, I have missed this,” I say, my hands on his shoulders.

“You and me both.”

His hand goes between us, seeking out that exact spot he knows so well. He finds it on the first try.

Our pace quickens, his strokes at my core faster, until I yell his name and my body clenches around him. He is right behind me, my name on a gasp as he fills me with life. The life that gave us Michael.

I collapse onto him and his hands slowly move up and down my back. I sigh and bury my face against his neck.

Then we both tense as we hear crying from the other room.

“Guess we need to learn volume control,” I say.

Daniel slips out of me. “I'll get him.”

“Thank you.”

I move off of him and lay back on the bed. He puts on his leg, then his boxers and walks to the door. He stops and turns to me.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Peg.”


End file.
